I sketch every day when I travel. I draw on the backs of postcards I send to my family, and I draw in sketchbooks.

I have particular preferences. I want paper of sufficient weight (so pen and ink won’t bleed through), and a bit of texture, or tooth. I like spiral binding, so each page can lay flat, not bowed up. Toned paper in a warm tan works best with a variety of mediums – graphite, ink pens, charcoal, earth toned Conté crayons, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cont%C3%A9 and white chalk for highlights.

I can fit stubs of pencils, Conté and chalk, a small sharpener and a kneaded eraser http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kneaded_eraser inside an old plastic cassette tape cover. It slips under the heavy rubber band that keeps the sketchbook closed.Compact, handy and works like a charm. In years past the other requirement is that the dimension of the sketchbook be small enough to fit into my Longchamps mini-backpack.

Clockwise from top 1. Bought in Vienna – love that red and a nice elastic closure, but the paper is so thin you can see a pencil mark through it and blindingly while. 2. Lovely gift book with heavy, handmade, deckle-edged paper, hand stitched in a leather cover, but it’s unwieldy and weighs a ton. 3. My first sketchbook, a classic moleskine, well used and well-loved, but teeny tiny. 4.Toned paper, a comfortable size, but the spine has to be cracked for it to lie flat.

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My favorite sketchbooks (postcards on left for scale). Toned paper with a hint of texture, spiral binding, sturdy and lightweight. Note cassette tape box with pencils, crayons, eraser and sharpener.

This trip I wanted to try a larger sketchbook. What held me back was the transportation issue. I considered tying cord to the ends of the wire spiral so I could sling it over my shoulder, until Robert pointed out it would bend the wire. Then I came across a lightweight, waterproof, sturdy satchel with adjustable shoulder strap and a single pocket inside that perfectly fits a 9×12″ toned, spiral bound sketchbook. I felt like I had struck gold. The graphic pattern works with the wardrobe I have planned for this trip (black and pewter with pops of Schiaparelli pink) . Eureka!

I’ve fired up the app https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/dreamdays-countdown-to-days/id585947384?mt=8 that does a automatic countdown. When I peek at it, I get a little frisson of anticipatory pleasure. The Mary Cassatt painting of a matador in his suit of lights is my Dreamdays trip image. Is he lighting up in the spirit of a final smoke before the firing squad, or in a post-coital mood, spent with relief at surviving his bullfight? Now that the holidays are over, I’m buckling down to research, accumulating possibilities for my day by day planner, and pre-booking tickets and museum passes.

Most of the museums I plan to see have pages on Facebook and I spent a happy couple of hours making a new Madrid/Lisbon interest list for my newsfeed. I’m now getting updates that give me glimpses of the paintings and treasures I’ll be seeing in person. And hooray for that handy ‘translate’ tab at the bottom of foreign language posts. It’s not perfect, but I get the gist.

Filled in the April day-by-day calendar with preliminary excursions and quickly realized there won’t be enough hours in the days or days in the month to fit in everything I’d like to see. Decisions must be made – El Escorial or the Royal Palace? I’ll take those kinds of inquiries to www.TripAdvisor.com which has never failed to give me cogent advice.

Figuring out which days museums are closed, what holiday to be aware of, the best days and times to visit is a lovely puzzle. I like having rain vs shine options too. Getting those all-important museum passes that permit me to bypass lines will gain me time that otherwise I might have squandered. I’ve booked one tour, with Context Travel. I’ve had excellent experiences with them in the Vatican Museum and Rembrandt’s House in Amsterdam.

I yearned to stay at the Hotel Orfila for my last five days in Madrid, but it’s really pricey, and I worried it couldn’t possibly be as lovely as I imagined. Then I came across this on the Wendy Perrin travel site: “Best bang-for-your-buck hotel -Orfila, a 32-room hotel housed in a nineteenth-century palace that feels more like a family home than a five-star Relais & Chateaux property. It is located only 15 minutes by foot from the Prado Museum in a quiet, mostly residential neighborhood. Rooms are furnished in top-quality antiques that the owner has been collecting for years, and there is a beautiful garden for guests to enjoy. It’s the kind of place where you get much more than you pay for.” That last sentence pushed me over the edge, and I found a ‘four days for the price of one’ deal, and booked it. Okay it didn’t push, I gladly jumped. Wouldn’t you? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hPZw-sbU1SA

Practiced my Spanish on Duolingo, something I’ve promised myself to do five days a week until I leave. It’s day 2.

Started posting on questions on the TripAdvisor Madrid Forum this week. I had great luck on the Paris board. Lots of helpful strategic info. One of my favorite replies linked to a Youtube site that had homemade videos of just the Louvre ceilings. Amazing and inspirational. I looked up the whole time I was there and was dazzled.

On the Madrid forum, 90% of the questions are the cheapest way to get from the airport, how to get soccer tickets, restaurant recs, best hotel at the cheapest price, and the intricacies of buying railroad tickets online. I figured my questions about art would be a welcome change or there would be crickets.

I hit the jackpot! Art lovers on Tripadvisor who have been or are living in Madrid came out of the woodwork. One great tip was a link to a blog “Every Museum in Madrid” – a kindred spirit who lived there in 2012 and explored them all. Got some excellent leads on art in churches, plus this tantalizing exhibition –

‘A Su Imagen’ is a selection of around 100 pieces of great quality and artistic value (Rubens, Murillo, Goya, Velázquez, Valdés Leal, Cranach) These are works covering a large period of time –from the 10th to the 20th century– that come from 22 dioceses and from public and private collections. Until 12 April 2015.

Note the closing date, which moves it up in priority. I probably would’ve missed it, blinded by the glories of the Prado. Now I have it plugged in on my Madrid day by day calendar.

I may not be able to pry myself out of the San Francisco El Grande Basilica, it looks so luscious. I Googled Almudena Cathedral and somehow ended up watching a video snippet of the royal wedding there. The dresses of the maids of honor looked like something out of a Velásquez court painting. And I can’t wait to visit Goya’s tomb in San Antonio de la Florida. I hope it is permitted to leave a little sketch or a very small paint brush. You can recognize the tomb of Fra Angelica in Rome just looking for the scraps of sketches, pencil stubs and tiny brushes, little offerings from artists paying him homage.

One of the pleasures of trip anticipation is reading. Blogs posts and travel sites for real time, boots on the ground information and insights, but also histories, biographies, and novels. I came across a bio of Vasco de Gama, who, in my hazy grade school memory, was a bold seafarer and explorer. Turns out he was also a vicious, bloodthirsty bastard. A man of appalling and horrifying acts of torture and vengeance. Take this example:

“After demanding the expulsion of Muslims from Calicut to the Zamorin Hindu, the latter sent the high priest Talappana Namboothiri (the very same person who conducted da Gama to the Zamorin’s chamber during his much celebrated first visit to Calicut in May 1498) for talks. Da Gama called him a spy, ordered the priests’ lips and ears to be cut off and after sewing a pair of dog’s ears to his head, sent him away.”

I thought I’d visit his tomb to pay homage to his nautical prowess. Turns out I’ll be going to make sure he’s still dead.

Ever hopeful, I turned to an audio book biography Isabella, Warrior Queen. More mayhem. I am all for strong female role models, but when I discover she invented the Inquisition, I’m outta there.

On the whole, I prefer the lives of the painters. Like, say, Diego Velasquez or Sofonisba Anguissola. Not that artists don’t get up to mischief, but it isn’t havoc on the grand scale that royalty and their sanctioned pirates tend to wreak.

I had a bout of pre-trip anxiety yesterday. I always go through a stretch of moody days where I can’t remember why I wanted to go on a long trip far away. My mind runs like this I’m not ready. I should study more history. The journey will exhaust me. I need to learn Portuguese. Some calamity – from stolen purse to psychotic landlord to broken leg – will befall me. Grumble grumble. Who wants to eat hot squid sandwiches and look at gloomy Spanish art anyway?

I do. And I will.

This has happened like clockwork, about month before every long-awaited trip. It’s predictable and look, it’s right on time. My policy is to note my glum mood and let it pass by, like clouds over the sun. I keep calm and carry on with my lists, in the sure and certain knowledge when I get on the plane I’ll be ready for adventure. It isn’t important whether or not it’s the adventure I have so carefully planned. In the immortal words of Rick Steves, if something is not to my liking, I can change my liking.

I have lost my passport, been targeted by a team of pickpockets, been spat at by a gypsy in Venice, passed a gallstone in a Paris museum, lost my way on foot in the dark of night, and arrived after a weary journey to find my accommodations uninhabitable. At the time I was too busy figuring out how to deal with the problem to be glum. In retrospect what I took away was confidence in my ability to adapt and thrive under all circumstances. Not a bad souvenir.

This blog is my own personal Wayback Machine. I re-read the entries from my first week in Paris last April, and it was an eyeopener. I won’t be bringing my down coat or raincoat or black mohair vest. Only one hat (wolfie) and a pair of mittens. No fancy Cole Haan walking shoes, though they are adorable. Just two pairs of chucks, in B&W and pink.

I pulled out my clothes – one pair each skinny black, gray, and blue jeans and two hoodies, plus teeshirts. More pattern in the tees this trip, less black. Pops of bright pink and bold socks. I remember getting so thirsty for color last time.
As I pulled my prospective wardrobe out, I tried things on. Wanted to be certain I could squeeze into it all. I’ve been living in yoga pants and loose long sleeve teeshirts. Painting and exercise are the main reason I get out of pajamas, and neither activities require dressing up.

I might as well admit I’ve been on a diet and exercise binge since January – in training for galloping around Madrid and climbing those notorious hills in Lisbon. Plus, being able to tell whether my bellybutton is an innie or an outie because my teeshirt is so tight is not a good look on a lady of my mature years.

Well, dang if it didn’t pay off. Everything fit. Even shirts that I couldn’t wear last summer because they clung too tightly to my midsection fit just fine. This means I get to wear my Voodoo Doughnut tee (Worth the Weight)and my Aloha Cowboy tee and red Gunshow tee (Defend Southern Food). So fun! It boosted my morning mood from pleasant into giddy-with-glee territory.

This afternoon my daughter came by to teach me and her dad how to wrangle the Google Hangout app, so we can text and video chat and not drop a fortune. I’ll cut off cellular access and restrict myself to wifi at the end of the day. For years. travel meant I basically went off the grid. I’ll kind of miss being utterly unplugged, but the blog is worth it. It’s more like the journals I kept in the 80s and the long emails I used to send to Robert than killing time chasing butterflies on the ‘Net.

I’ve been working out at the gym for months, with Madrid as my motivation. I need all the strength and stamina I can muster. I go four days a week, one of them with a great trainer, Jessica Bowman. She’s got me running stairs, which is brilliant. It makes total sense if you know how much time I spend climbing and descending stairs in museum. I do upper body weights with the goal of being able to heave my carry-on luggage into the overhead bin on the airplanes. True confession: I also play the old lady card. Hey, gray hair and seniority is good for something. Usually someone offers to give me a hand.

Today was typical – I pedaled for 50 minutes on a recumbent bike, stretched, then did a back/ ab machine for another ten minutes.

I am not kidding myself that this in any way equals what the upcoming Madrid/ Lisbon trip will require of me, but it does keep me limber. I shift into a another gear on the road. The adrenalin and endorphins released when I’m standing in front of great art, the mental agility required to navigate each day in a strange land, plus the complete lack of routine seems to tap into resources I can’t usually access.

Robert kindly completed his yeoman work on the taxes. This gives me access to the dining room table, my preferred staging area for packing.

There are three luggage components: the main suitcase, the carry-on and my little backpack purse. The carry-on stacks on top of the suitcase, the handle of the suitcase slipping under a strap on the carry-on. This makes it exponentially easier for me to wheel away from baggage claim and into a taxi and down the city streets to my destination.

This year I am trying a new suitcase with the kind of wheels that rotate in all directions (thanks Boatie!) I’m bringing a couple of things that were either difficult to find or prohibitively expensive in Paris – tea and oatmeal.

I loved the way the space bags – like giant ziplocks you roll up and squeeze the air out of – turned my pillow into a wafer, so I am going to test out packing shirts, my rain jacket, scarves and knickers that way.

Clothes don’t take up the most space – shoes, toiletries, equipment (flat iron, dryer) and my trip planing folder do that. Electronic have their own place in the carry-on; my Nook, Laptop, iPod, iPhone and camera, plus accompanying cables and chargers, along with a change of clothes. It only took one sloshed vente latte to convince me you alway need a change of clothes on hand. I’ve never had my luggage lost (wait while I knock on wood) but my carry-on could see me through. A comforting thought.

Things I am leaving behind

A large sketchbook and carrying case – I only used two small sketchbooks. I can always buy paper there if I am smitten with the urge to sketch a landscape.

My winter-weight down coat: never left my suitcase in Paris.

A memory foam neck pillow: again, never left the carry-on. The inflatable neck pillow I’ve used for 15 years is best. Flattens and folds into the size of a paper towel when not in use.

Clogs: I took two pair of lace up shoes and a pair of clogs to Paris and only wore my black & white Chucks. This trip, two pairs of chucks and a pair of leopard print birkenstock-style sandals will be my de facto slippers and possibly worn on the 80 degree days.

I was looking at the pear I’d painted on my main suitcase and it felt a bit sad. Drab really. Something seemed off about the shape too. On a whim I pulled out some acrylic paint and reworked it. I didn’t have a pear to use as a reference, as I always have in the past. I just winged it.

Here’s the results. Old pearNew pear-I made it up. This is not a pear you will find in nature, or in the greengrocers. But I like it.

Yesterday I supervised a major spring yard clean up while I transfered files, images, songs and audio books from my home Macbook Pro laptop to our little Macbook air. I figured out how Air Drop works – with files it’s straightforward, but audio is a little trickier. I felt triumphant, since I am no IT wizard, and had to do it by guess and by golly. The next time I am complaining about my failing elder brain, Robert is going to remind me that while I may not remember the name of someone I’ve seen around for ages, I master new Apple apps and operating info like a boss.

I reviewed a dozen restaurant suggestions for Madrid and Lisbon, using suggestions from a knowledgeable friend, Madrid blogs, Yelp, and Trip Advisor. I added several that I could tell, from cross-referencing their locations with my bespoke Madrid Google Map, will be nearby museums I plan to visit. I made an Saturday afternoon reservation at Al Trapo – online in Spanish!- that’s experimental in service and cuisine. Sure it’s edgy, but you have to try stuff. !http://www.altraporestaurante.com/index.php/en/

I noticed a link to a Facebook page, so when I posted on my FB that I’d made a rez , I linked to it and Al Trapo Liked me back. Modern times. I can’t wait to tell the waitstaff when I sit down to my lunch that we are FB friends.

Today I commence the all important pre-trip grooming (mani pedi is not until Tuesday, since it has to last me for a month) and getting my hair trimmed and conditioned. This is after I go to the gym. If my hair looks good, thank the genius below on the right, Kelly Geiger, who has been coaxing it along since 2000.All of Atlanta is blooming, right before a freeze hits tonight. The streets and yards are filled with blossom. I’ve got crabapple, forsythia, redbud, weeping cherry, daffodil, woodland hyacinth, daphne, and camellias all in bloom. Worth the wheeze and sneeze.